A Year in the Life (A Cooking with Gas Story)
by WinJennster
Summary: 30 Time Stamps from the Cooking with Gas 'verse, catching up with Dean in Cas in the year after their wedding. Each chapter title is the challenge.
1. Holding Hands

_OK, no way in hell I am gonna publish one of these every day, but this is the 30 day challenge. You will get 30 tasty drabbles from the CWG 'verse, it just might take me a month or two to do._

* * *

_November 20, 2014_

"So things have been going well then?"

"Yup," Dean replies with a smile, "things have been going great!"

Dr. Pamela Barnes smiles at him, and makes a notation on her notepad. "And the nightmares?"

Dean grimaces. "Yeah, I still get them once in a while, but not all the time. Not like it was before."

"That's good. How often would you say you have one?"

"About once a week. But those are just the minor ones. I only get the really bad ones once or twice a month, and Cas is so good at detecting them that it doesn't usually get very far before he wakes me up."

"That's good. Anything unusual about the dreams?" She shifts in the chair, and Dean takes a moment to admire her tight black AC/DC tank top. He guesses some people would find Pamela unprofessional, with her rock wear, heavy eyeliner, torn jeans, tattoos, and give 'em hell attitude and foul mouth, but truth be told, Dean doesn't think Cas could have found him a better fit for a therapist. Pamela made him feel at ease right from day one. The fact that she's a prior-service Marine doesn't hurt either.

"Well, the last really bad one I had, Cas was in New York, and instead of dreaming about Andy, I, I…" he falters, and Pamela stays quiet, waiting for him to continue. It's one of the million and one things about her that make her amazing. She knows when to not prod him, when to sit back and let him get his thoughts together. It's almost like she's psychic. "Anyway, I um, I dreamt about Cas. I dreamt it was Cas burning in the Humvee. Couldn't go back to sleep at all that night."

Pamela frowns. "Has that happened before? And Cas was in New York three weeks ago. Why didn't you tell me then?"

"I've never dreamt about Cas that way before and I didn't tell you because…hell, I don't know."

"It's ok. Listen, it doesn't mean anything bad. It's just that Cas is everything to you, and you are newlyweds after all, so it's really no wonder that he would be the person you're thinking of the most. And because you are thinking about him all the time, he just happened to replace Andy in your dream. It doesn't mean anything will happen to Cas, and it doesn't mean you're dishonoring Andy's memory."

Dean nods. Somehow, she always knows exactly what to say.

"You're doing great, by the way. We've been seeing each other for almost a year and a half, twice a week at first, then once a week, then biweekly. I think you're doing well enough now that we can cut it back to once a month. I'm proud of you Dean, you've come a long, long way, and you should be proud of yourself as well."

He opened his mouth to tell her the credit should go to Cas, but she cut him off.

"And don't give me a bunch of shit about how all the credit goes to Cas, because it was _you _who came to the appointments, it was _you_ that took the meds which you no longer need, because _you_ worked on fixing yourself. Don't get me wrong, having someone like Cas in your corner makes this process damn easier, but hell if I'll sit here and let you give away all your hard work. _You_ need to be fuckin' proud of yourself, Dean, because _you_ did this. You fixed yourself."

Dean blushes and stares at the floor. He never was that good at taking compliments.

"Now get out of here, and I'll see you in a month, ok?"

"Ok."

He stands, and she hugs him, and pushes him out the door. "And kiss that gorgeous husband of yours for me!"

* * *

He's late getting to Lawrence High for Ben's concert, and Dean's cursing up a blue streak as he trawls the parking lot looking for a spot. He finds Cas's Corvette taking up almost three spots and he grins.

Cas saved him a spot.

Dean puts the Impala in park, and quickly moves the Vette and pulls in next to it. He'll have to thank Cas later for being the most brilliant husband on the face of the Earth.

Husband.

That word still seems kind of weird on Dean's tongue. They've been married for two months and two days, and it still feels so new.

The orchestra is already on it's first number when he gets into the auditorium, and it's dark, he can't really see Cas, or Lisa and Vic for that matter. He can see Ben, sitting with the other trumpeters in the brass section, his shiny trumpet reflecting the stage lights.

Walking slowly down the aisle, Dean jumps a mile when Cas reaches out and grabs his sleeve, but recovers quickly and slides into the seat next to him.

"Did I miss his solo?"

"No. They just started."

Dean finally relaxes, and smiles over at Lisa and Vic.

The orchestra finishes their current number, and the conductor stands. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd now like to introduce Benjamin Winchester, who's going to play a trumpet solo."

Ben stands with a grin, finds Dean's eyes, and begins to play. The notes are familiar, and Dean feels a bit choked up as Ben starts playing _La Vie en Rose._

Louis Armstrong's got nothing on his boy, as Ben plays a perfect jazz trumpet, and he feels Cas takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I love you," Cas whispers in the dark.

Dean smiles. "I love you too, Cas."

Ben plays on, and they hold hands in the dark, happy and in love.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

_November 26,2014_

There was a loud groan from the den, and Castiel smiled at his husband, sprawled out on the chocolate leather couch.

"Why didja have to make so much pie?" Dean whined. "My stomach is going to explode!" He groaned again and rolled onto his side, hands clenched over his stomach.

"No one said you had to eat so much," Castiel said drily. "Not my fault you had multiple slices."

"But it was so good. And you know how I feel about pie."

"Yes, I do. But two pieces of pumpkin, one of apple, and three of the pecan was bound to hurt. You realize, with all of those slices, you ate almost an entire pie by yourself. Not to mention the three plates of food you had at dinner."

"It's Thanksgiving! Overeating is what it's all about!"

"It's actually about giving thanks for all the good things in your life."

"Well, then, I'm giving thanks for a husband that can make awesome pie."

Castiel chuckled as he put the last dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. He wiped the counters down, and put the last of the food away, shoving what was left of the pie all the way to the back of the fridge in a half-assed attempt to prevent Dean from further indulging himself. Shutting off the kitchen lights, he walked into the den, finding Dean with his eyes at half mast, staring blankly at the Cowboys game on the big screen, his grey Led Zeppelin tee rucked up around his rib cage.

"Scoot over," Castiel told him. Dean didn't move. "Come on, give me some room."

"Can't move," Dean mumbled. "Food…coma…imminent!"

"Move or I'll tickle you."

"Tickle me, and I'll probably hurl."

Castiel smirked and bent over, poking Dean's exposed stomach with his fingertips. "Look at your belly. You look pregnant."

Dean looked up at him with the most pathetic expression imaginable. "Dude. I really did eat too much. It hurts."

"Move over then. Let me lay behind you, and I'll rub your belly."

Scooting to the edge of the couch, Dean made room for Castiel to climb in. Settling down behind Dean, he pulled the other man's back against his chest, reaching forward to spread his hand over Dean's distended belly, gently rubbing in circles, Dean making contented little hums.

"Is that better my love?" Castiel whispered in his ear.

"Oh god, yes," Dean purred, relaxing back into Castiel's arms.

The den was dark, the only light in the room coming from the big screen, and it was nice and quiet now, a far cry from the rowdy Winchester family dinner held earlier in the evening. Dean was warm and pliant in his arms, his breathing slow and deep and even.

He rolled over, pressing his chest against Castiel's, his eyes closed.

"Dean, we should go to bed."

Dean shook his head and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist. "Nope. I'm good," he said drowsily, and a moment later he was gone.

Reaching up and pulling the fleece throw off the back of the couch, Castiel covered them up and snuggled into Dean, pulling him as close as possible.

There was no better place to be than cuddled up with his gorgeous husband on Thanksgiving night.


	3. Gaming or Watching a Movie

_Mari is Sam and Jess's almost two year old daughter. A reader mentioned that I had messed things up a bit by having Jess pregnant still in Chapter 26 of the Original Story. So I fixed that in chap 26._

_Thanks for all your reviews guys, I apologize for not responding personally._

* * *

_December 24, 2014_

Dean very carefully folded a tiny hot pink Metallica onesie and placed it in a gift box on top of a tiny, artfully ripped pair of black jeans. There were also hot pink and black checked socks in the box. He folded the pale pink tissue over the clothes and slipped the lid of the box on. He then deftly covered the box in Santa-hat wearing Hello Kitty paper and added it to the already insanely large stack of Hello Kittyed boxes under the tree.

Cas walked into the room, his own arms full of boxes wrapped in more traditional paper, red and green plaid and red with gold reindeers, and regarded the stack under the tree.

"There's nowhere to put your presents, Dean."

"Just shove 'em in there somewhere," he replied, tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration as he negotiated the confusing task of wrapping an unwieldy oddly angled package containing a noisy toy steering wheel.

"Dean, do you think you may have purchased one too many presents for Mari?"

"No. I actually left a few items I wanted to get her."

Cas sighed. "Who are all these Transformers wrapped gifts for?" That stack was almost as large as the Hello Kitty pile.

"Ben."

"Why Transformers? Your son is seventeen and going to college in the fall."

Dean shrugs. "It's just our thing, I guess."

He watches as Cas looks at another large stack of boxes and packages with girly Christmas paper on them. Cas reads the names on the boxes and his eyes widen in surprise.

"These are all for Rachel and Sarah?"

"Yeah. I didn't want them to feel left out, since they're going to be here and all. It's awesome that both our families will be here tomorrow." Dean puts a sparkly pink bow on the last of Mari's presents, a little box containing a tiny pair of sparkly hot pink Chucks that will look great with his almost two-year-old niece's new Metallica outfit.

"You didn't have to do this Dean."

"I know."

Cas smiles. "You are remarkable. And wonderful. You know that right?"

Dean feels his cheeks heat, and he stands to move the rest of Mari's boxes over to the already large stack. Cas wraps his arms around his waist and presses his chest against Dean's back.

"Our first married Christmas," he breathes in Dean's ear, "I love you."

"I love _you_," Dean smiled as he turned and kissed him.

"So is this it? Any more to wrap or are we done?"

"We're done and thank god, 'cause I have had enough!" Dean started packing up the wrappings and tape spread all over the den.

"Let's clean up, then we'll put on a movie and eat some goodies, ok?"

Dean nodded happily. "That sounds like a great plan!"

Half an hour later, there's a fire dancing merrily in the fireplace, and Dean and Cas are wrapped together on the couch, a warm blanket tossed over them. Dean is eating his way through a plate of Cas's amazing cookies while his husband flips through the channels looking for a Christmas movie.

"_White Christmas_?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because the part with the General when all his guys show up to surprise him? Makes me cry. You know how I get about Army shit."

"Ok. How about _A Christmas Story_?"

"Nope."

"Why not? I know you love this one!"

"I do. But TNT runs it for twenty-four hours and I can't watch it without Ben, Sam and Adam. It's our thing. Tomorrow night after dinner."

"_Scrooged_?"

"No."

"_Home Alone_?"

"No."

"_A Wonderful Life_?"

"No…ok." Dammit. Dean loves this movie but it gets him every time. He's usually fine until the very end, when George decides life is worth living, and even though he knows things will be tough, it's worth it, and somehow he'll get through. Then everyone he knows and loves shows up with money to help him and Mary, and his brother comes home from the war and…well it just gets to Dean.

He knows how it feels to have your family and friends love you like that.

And he feels his eyes well just thinking about it.

Cas hands him a glass of eggnog, and Dean takes a sip, and snuggles in.

True, he's a big tough dude, and he's not girly, but there are few things in this world that feel better than being pressed tightly against Cas's side, his husband's arm holding him close.

On the big screen, George and Mary are walking home from the dance, staring up at the moon, and George offers to lasso it for her.

He'd do the same for Cas.

As the movie plays on, he gets sleepier and sleepier, snuggled up with his husband on Christmas Eve, comfortable, and content, and happy.

And that's the best Christmas present he could ask for.

Cas leans over and kisses his forehead, and Dean drifts off, his dreams sweet and peaceful.


	4. On a Date

_Thanks for all your reviews. You guys are the best!_

* * *

_February 14, 2015_

_New York, New York_

Castiel smiled across the table at Dean as a waiter filled his wine glass. Valentine's Day had fallen on a Saturday, and Castiel had business in New York, so they were spending their first married Valentine's Day in the city, with a beautiful Central Park view room at the Waldorf, and now they were enjoying dinner together at their favorite New York restaurant, Blue Heaven Steakhouse.

He was busy admiring his husband's black pinstripe suit, black shirt, and hot pink tie, and musing how his humble mechanic from Kansas managed to look like a supermodel in everything he put on, when Gabe came out of the back and plopped down on the bench next to Dean, tossing an arm over his shoulder.

"What's up boys? All the places in NY for romantic dinners and you pick my lil old joint?"

"Hey, man, what I can I say? Cas and I are creatures of habit!"

"Well, I'm glad to have you. Don't even think about asking for the check, you guys are on the house!"

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to bro. Consider it my gift to you. It's your first married Valentine's after all. And you are such adorable newlyweds. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen. Just come back and holler at me before you take off."

"Of course, Gabe. And thank you for dinner."

"Anytime." He grabbed Dean again and gave him a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek, then did the same to Castiel. "Happy V-D!"

"He's nuts," Dean laughed as Gabe headed back to the kitchen.

"He is indeed."

"Nice of him to offer us dinner."

"Gabe's always been very generous. He can be extraordinarily silly, and you never know when he's going to get you with one of his signature practical jokes, but he's a good brother and I wouldn't be where I am now without him and Anna."

"That's awesome."

"Yes, it is." Castiel reached across the table and took Dean's hand. "Now where were we?"

Dean beamed at him over his wine glass. "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you."

"As I you, my love."

They finished their dinner, popped in to say goodnight to Gabe, then hailed a cab back to the hotel.

His husband was definitely buzzing, as Dean practically crawled into his lap and was clumsily pulling at Castiel's red silk tie, his mouth busy molesting his neck.

They barely made it back to the room, Castiel throwing a wad of bills at the cabbie, and judging by the man's extremely happy honking, it was far more than it needed to be, and the minute they're through the door, Dean is slamming him into the wall, yanking at his suit jacket and pushing his leg between Castiel's thighs.

"Want you," he growled, hands working on Castiel's buckle. "Now."

Castiel smiled. Dean was taking control, and he loved it. He loved it when Dean tossed him on the bed, he loved it when Dean owned him with his mouth and his hands, and he loved it when Dean fucked him into the mattress.

After, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, Dean in that same spot he's loved since day one, face hidden in Castiel's neck.

"So, good first Valentine's?" Castiel asked, smoothing his hand over Dean's spine.

"Perfect."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Castiel flipped Dean onto his back, and smiled down at the other man. "Ready for round two?"

Dean grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. "Oh hell, yeah," he purred, "Best Valentine's Day _ever!_"

Castiel couldn't agree more.


	5. Kissing

_This one's a little on the short side, but posting another right after. Thanks again for all your reviews guys!_

* * *

_April 19, 2015_

The minute he walked into his house, Dean caught a whiff of garlic and smiled.

Cas was in the kitchen, a big smile lighting his face as he caught sight of Dean and the roses he was holding.

"For me?"

"Yup," Dean said with a grin, a huge smile on his face, "Happy Anniversary."

Taking the roses from him, Cas smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Happy anniversary to you as well, my love."

It had been two years since Cas first showed up on his doorstep to film _A Little Taste of Heaven_, and a year since they'd gotten engaged. As was apparently becoming tradition, Cas had all the elements necessary to make the meal they'd made that first day laying on the counter.

And a few minutes later, he was standing behind Dean, hands over his, recreating the first time he'd shown him how to properly mince garlic.

"See how much better that works?" he purred into Dean's ear.

"You know how completely off balance you threw me when you did that the first time?"

"Yes. And that was the plan," Cas whispered as he licked a little trail down Dean's neck. "You have any idea how hot you looked, blushing and flustered, no idea how to handle what I was doing to you? Every move I made was calculated. I was intent on seducing you, Mr. Winchester."

"Well, it worked," Dean grinned, as he set down the knife and twisted in Cas's arms, "hell, it's still working." Their lips met, sweet and soft, Cas tasting of berries and a hint of wine as he licked across Dean's lips.

Dean hummed in contentment, letting his husband take the lead. Cas grabbed his hips and pulled him in tight, his tongue sweeping into Dean's mouth, tangling with his own. Dean wrapped a hand around Cas's neck, pushing back with his own tongue, arousal pooling in his belly.

"Shit, Cas, are we gonna make dinner?" Dean gasped, when Cas dropped his head to attack his neck, his slender fingers yanking at the hem of Dean's tee.

"Fuck dinner," Cas growled, and damn if that statement didn't send shivers down Dean's spine. Next thing he knew, Dean was on the kitchen floor, Cas pinning his arms over his head and kissing him silly, all while grinding their hips together.

Dinner could wait.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

_April 20, 2015_

Castiel woke slowly, aware of Dean pressed against him, his head tucked into Castiel's shoulder, arm around his waist and their legs tangled together.

Sleeping with Dean was much akin to bunking with a warm, snuggly octopus. Dean would be the first to tell anyone who was listening that he didn't go in for "chick-flick moments" like cuddling, but that was a total and complete lie. The man had _Fried Green Tomatoes_ in his DVD collection, for pete's sake. Castiel knew him well enough to know that the man behind the bravado was plenty emotional, and had no trouble sharing his feelings. At least, he had no trouble sharing with Castiel. But it had taken them a long time to get to that point.

Shifting slightly in the bed, not wanting to disturb Dean, Castiel was a little disappointed to see the streaks of rain dancing on the window. Dean had taken the day after their anniversary off, and they had planned on heading up to Kansas City to go to Legends, the big outdoor mall up there, and Dean's favorite store in the whole damn world, Cabela's. They had planned on lunch in downtown at Arthur Bryant's.

They could still do all of that, but the rain would make things that much damper.

Oh well. Such is life.

Dean stirred, murmuring little non-words as he stretched, the sheet slipping down over his bare chest and hips, leaving him almost completely exposed. He blinked twice, then looked up at Castiel, brilliant green eyes twinkling even in the dimness of their bedroom.

"Mornin'," he grinned at Castiel.

"Good morning to you," Castiel smiled as he leant down to kiss him. Dean hooked his hand behind Castiel's neck and turned his chaste good morning kiss into something decidedly hotter.

"Dean…"

"What? We're already naked," Dean smirked. "Might as well use it to our advantage."

Castiel found he couldn't disagree with that, and his body was definitely on board. A little while later, when their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, Castiel dragged him into the shower, and they both enjoyed washing each other, making out under the stream of hot water.

"So, we still doing KC today?" Dean asked, peering out into the wet world, clad just in a pair of old jeans that hugged every last inch of him in just the right way.

"A little rain shouldn't slow us down."

"True enough." Dean turned from the window and took in Castiel's outfit with a raised eyebrow. "Dude. That's my shirt."

"It's mine. I wear it more that you do."

"That's 'cause you keep stealing it!"

Castiel smiled at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the vintage white Stones tee he'd been stealing from Dean on a regular basis for almost two years. The first time had been the weekend of Sam's thirtieth birthday, when Castiel had showed up and surprised Dean.

"I like it. It's comfy and it smells like you." Castiel opened the armoire and pulled one of his own shirts out. "Here," he tossed a shirt at Dean, "you can wear one of mine."

Dean smirked, but put the shirt on, carefully doing up the buttons. It was the blue and white plaid button-down Castiel had worn for his cooking demo with Guy Fieri and Michael Symon in Napa.

"Holy cow."

"What?" Dean asked self-consciously, smoothing down the non-existent wrinkles in the shirt. "Do I look stupid?"

Castiel shook his head slowly. "No. No, quite the opposite. Let's just say, you should wear my shirts more often."

Dean was a little broader in the shoulders and the chest than Castiel was, and the shirt fit him perfectly, like someone had measured him and made it exclusively for Dean. It was snug and form-fitting in all the right places, and Castiel felt his jeans tighten at the sight.

"I swear, everything you put on makes you look like a goddamn male model."

His husband blushed, but smiled.

"I'm serious. You look amazing."

"Thanks."

"We should go, or I'm just going to drag you back to bed."

Dean grinned, and sidled closer, pressing his chest against Castiel's. "That's a pretty piss poor incentive for getting me to leave." He leaned in and pressed his lips to Castiel's neck. "You know, there's a reason I rarely wear that Stones shirt anymore."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm," Dean hummed, sliding his hands underneath the worn cotton tee, "I don't wear it much because I like the way you look in it. And I like taking it off of you even more."

The Stones shirt hit the floor, and the blue and white plaid followed not long after, and Mr. and Mr. Winchester never made it to Kansas City that rainy Monday.


	7. Cosplay

_May 2, 2015_

Dean adjusted his brown duster and smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

"Damn, I make a perfect Mal Reynolds," he said to himself. Charlie came up behind him and slapped his shoulder.

"We do look awesome, Cap," she grinned, the curls of her brown wig tumbling over her shoulders.

"What's that make us Zoe?"

"Big damn heroes, sir," she replied with a smirk.

"I look completely ridiculous."

"You look amazing! That's a great costume, Sam!" Charlie dissolved into giggles, her eyes sparkling as they swept from Sam's feet to the top of his head. Dean chuckled.

"That'll teach you to make bets with Cas, Bitchsquatch."

"Shut up, jerk. I look like an idiot." Sam's voice is muffled under the heavy mask. "You let him hustle me. You didn't even warn me how good he was at pool…and darts…and poker! You broke the bro code man."

Dean outright laughs at that. "I warned you not to play against him! Not my fault, not my fault at all. Also, you were drunk off your ass. Mari could have beat you."

Charlie finally calmed down enough to ask a coherent question. "So, how do you feel?"

"Shut up."

"Hey. Be nice."

"You be nice. Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Idiot!"

"Assbutt!"

Dean laughed. "Assbutt? Seriously, Cas…" the words died on his tongue as he turned to see his husband.

Cas had on a crisp white shirt, navy blue pants with a thick gold stripe down each outer seam, and shiny, knee-high black leather boots.

Holy hotness. Dean's mouth went instantly dry, as he stared at one of his secret fantasies come to life. His gorgeous dark haired husband, fake blaster in hand, a perfect, living, breathing representation of Dean's all-time favorite fictional character.

Suddenly, Harrison Ford didn't seem quite so hot anymore, not with this gorgeous blue eyed version of Han Solo standing in his living room.

"Uhh…" Dean mumbled intelligently.

Cas tilted his head at Dean, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. Dean felt his cheeks flame. Oh god, he was hot. Like smoking hot. Like the Impala's black leather seats on an August day when all the windows are up and you get in for just a second to check the odometer but you've got swim shorts on and _ow! ow! ow!_ hot.

They stared at each other, eyes locked, heat building, then Sam cleared his throat.

"Sometime today?" he grumbled through his mask. Cas chuckled as he swept his eyes over Sam's tall form.

"You do make a wonderful Chewbacca, Sam."

Sam huffed as he pulled the mask off, his face red, sweat making strands of his long hair stick to his face. "I hate you. You totally hustled me."

Dean says nothing as Sam and Cas argue light-heartedly back and forth, his eyes fixed on Cas. God, he looks amazing. Like, he knew Cas would look good dressed as Han Solo, it was why he had suggested it in the first place. But he hadn't been expecting just how good he'd look.

Now, he has absolutely zero desire to go up to Kansas City and the Comicon. Charlie and Sam can go. Dean's gonna stay here and peel his husband back out of that costume, at least part of the way, 'cause he's definitely down with the idea of having sex with Han Solo. Maybe he could just unbutton the shirt, maybe the pants, leave most of it on, climb up on top and…

"Dean? You coming?"

Or not. Dammit.

* * *

God, this costume sucks ass.

Sam is so sweaty, he's pretty sure there's a puddle developing in the lower regions of the Chewbacca suit. He hopes Cas loses the security deposit on the rental. That would cheer him immensely.

Charlie is at his side, going gaga over a large display of multisided dice in every color of the rainbow. She looks pretty cute with the Zoe wig and the whole leather get-up that character wears. Maybe one of these days he'll get around to actually watching _Firefly_.

Speaking of which, it's been at least an hour since he's seen the intrepid Captains Reynolds and Solo. They're going to miss the costume contest.

"Charlie? Can you text Dean and Cas? I would, but I can't." He holds up his gloved hands in explanation.

"Um…don't think that's necessary." She points across the room, at Cas and Dean who are coming towards them.

Cas's eyes are fiery and determined and he's practically dragging Dean by the arm. His brother is _wrecked_, hair a mess and costume disheveled, and shit, Sam does not want to think about what they've been doing.

"We're getting a room," Cas growls, tossing the Impala keys at Charlie. "We'll find our own way home." Then he's wrapping an arm around Dean and dragging him off again, Dean tossing a happy, sexed-out grin back at Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes, and yanks off his Chewbacca head. "That's…I don't even know."

Charlie grins. "We can still have fun, furball. There's lots to do."

"Ok. Lead the way then." He extends his arm, and Charlie takes it happily.

Two girls dressed as fairies walk by them, giggling to each other.

"Did you see them?" The first girl asks.

"Oh my god, yes. I got pictures. I can't wait to put it on tumblr. That's going to make me tumblr famous, I'm telling you. Hottest ship ever."

"Yup, and those two were hot as hell, I could have watched them make out all day. Did they seriously think no one would see them behind that plant? But what do we call them? MalHan? SolRey?"

"Hell if I know, but by the end of the day, most of tumblr will be shipping Mal Reynolds and Han Solo."

Sam just rolls his eyes again and goes with it.


	8. Shopping

_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews on this drabble series. I love you guys so much! _

_Considering a sequel to CWG...but it won't be for a while yet. I can't seem to let go of this 'verse._

* * *

_May 24, 2015_

Fame did not agree with Dean Winchester.

Honestly, he didn't know how Cas did it. It bothered him. He was standing in Dillard's in Oak Park Mall trying to decide between a green tie and a red tie. There was a perky twenty-something pointing him out to her friends and giggling.

This had been happening all damn day.

Hell, the whole reason he was here was because _Kansas Kustoms_ (and who was the genius that came up with that name? Seriously? _Kansas Kustoms_? Dean hated the name, but apparently being the boss of the shop didn't give him creative control over the show. He probably shoulda read that contract a little better) had won some big TV award and there was a dinner he was expected to go to, and did he mention how much he hated this "fame" thing?

Anyway, Cas and Jo had had enough of his whining (he wasn't whining, he was expressing his distaste for the whole fame…yeah, ok he was whining) and had moseyed off to find a latte or get matching manicures or something, he didn't know, all he knew was that, there he was, in the middle of the mall, alone, with god, groupies?, honing in on him and infringing on his God-given personal space!

One thing he knew for certain. He was in no way, shape, or form, picking out anything resembling underwear with these giggling girls hanging around.

"Well look at you, Mr. Famous."

Well, he guessed the day could get worse after all.

"Bela."

She tossed her long honey colored tresses over her shoulder, looking ridiculously elegant as usual, in a black tailored suit with a pristine white silk blouse and pearls, enormous Louis Vuitton purse hanging off her arm, and sky-high heels.

"Hello, darling. Look at you, with your cackling fan base. It's adorable." She leaned in closer, and whispered in his ear. "Shame they don't know what a hot mess you are in real life, isn't it sweetheart?"

Now, he should be able to handle this. Hell, he's married now, it's been almost a year, he's in the middle of a successful relationship, his career is successful beyond his wildest dreams, the sessions with Pamela have made dealing with his PTSD so much better, really, Dean's healthier than he's ever been.

But there is something about _her_, something she does, maybe it's the way she speaks to him, or the absolute poise and elegance she possesses, but something about her puts Dean right back there, back to the quivering mess he was that morning after the Impala burned, when he fell apart completely and ran, without a second guess or thought, just the overwhelming urge to run.

He's shaking, it's almost unnoticeable, but he can feel it in his hands and he hates her for it. He hates her with everything in him and it fuels the fire inside, and his hands involuntarily curl into fists.

"Leave me alone," Dean growls.

"Look at you, you fierce little tiger! Did you grow a backbone somewhere? Or is this your husband's influence? I can't help but laugh at that. You, married to a man! I bet you're the wife in the relationship aren't you? You're far too weak to be the dominant spouse. Maybe you like being the precious little submissive housewife. Do you have a sweet frilly apron to go with your pearls?" She's not exactly being quiet, and Dean's fangirls are rustling, an undercurrent of anger sweeping through them.

"Fuck off, Bela, I mean it, just fucking go to hell!" Dean stalks off to the tie display, hoping she'll get the message and leave him alone.

"That's right, run away, isn't that what you always do?"

He turns away from her, and stares down at the ties in his hands, surprised to find his fists fully clenched around the green and red silk. He's shaking a little harder now, and is doing his absolute damndest to rein in his anger. Dean wants nothing more than to turn around and punch her, to put his fist through her jaw.

He turns to face her again, and his voice is low, flat and angry. "Bela. Leave. Me. Alone."

"Oh, aren't you cute? Just too cute for wor-"

Bela takes a fist to the face, Dean never sees it coming, and it's not his fist, it's Jo's, and she stands over Bela, breathing hard, looking like she's about to do it again. Cas is right behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and pulling her away.

"Try something again, bitch, and you'll get it worse next time! Fuckin' bitch!" Jo's fighting Cas with everything in her, and he's doing his damn best to pull her out of the store. Dean drops both ties on the display and quickly follows them, his admirers standing around in shocked silence.

"Bitch had it comin'…" he hears someone mutter as he hurriedly walks past, and he tosses them a grateful smile.

* * *

Back at the house, Castiel gets a bag of ice for Jo's hand. He affectionately chucks her chin. "Little firecracker," he grins, gently pressing the ice to her slightly bruised knuckles.

"Dean's out back. Should I go apologize? Is this gonna make him look bad?"

"I don't think so. There were witnesses that heard Bela harassing him. I'm sure it will be fine."

Jo nods, and slides off her perch on the kitchen island. "I'm going to head home." She saunters over to the front door. "You know, we didn't even get his clothes for the dinner?"

"I'll take care of it. See you tomorrow?"

"Yup!"

Heading outside, Castiel finds Dean sitting on the huge chaise lounge he'd bought for their anniversary more than a year ago.

"Hey," he says, plopping down next to him, "you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Just happily reliving that moment. Jo…god I love that girl."

"Me, too." Castiel wraps an arm around his husband and pulls him in close. "Tell me you didn't believe anything she said?"

Dean sighs. "A year ago? Yeah, I would have. And I almost started to today. But I remembered you. I remembered how much you love me. And I dunno, she just made me angry. I didn't feel that damn worthlessness, the way she always made me feel before. I mean, look at us Cas. We've been together two years, married almost a whole year, and I'm happy. Really happy. I was with her for three years, and I was miserable almost the entire time. Believe me, I know now, the problem wasn't me, it was her. It was always her." He sighs again. "I'm not making any sense."

"You're making plenty of sense, and that's a damn healthy reaction. I'm proud of you, you've come so far." Castiel leans over, laying soft kisses on Dean's neck. "Let's go upstairs, crawl into that beautiful bathtub of ours and forget the whole day. I can make us a quick something to eat in bed if you want."

"That sounds amazing, Cas. God, I love you."

"I love you too. You're everything to me."

Dean blushes slightly, a sweet smile on his lips, and they sit on the chaise a while longer, watching the sun go down.


	9. Hanging with Friends

_Thanks for all your reviews darlin's! Love you all very much._

* * *

June 4, 2015

They were taking up one long line of seats in Lawrence High's stadium bleachers.

The Winchester clan was also, quite possibly, the noisiest group of people there, and Dean could see the slight blush on Ben's cheeks as he accepted his diploma, and Adam, Jo, Benny and Sam all stood up and yelled as loud as they could. Which was pretty damn loud.

He was sitting in between Cas and Lisa, who was openly sobbing as she clutched his and Victor's hands. "My baby, my baby," she muttered nonsensically, as Dean and Vic shared a grin over her head.

Dean surreptitiously wiped away a tear of his own.

His boy, his baby, all grown up, diploma in hand, blushingly waving up at his family from the stage.

Ben is so handsome, tall and strong, and so damn smart. He's gonna follow in his Uncle Sam's footsteps, off to Stanford on a full ride, going to become a lawyer, and Dean couldn't be more proud. Even if his heart is breaking slightly at the thought of four, no, _eight_ with grad school, years without his son around all the time. No more baseball games, no more midnight Monopoly tourneys, no more last minute trips to KC to go to Cabela's, no more "hey Dad, can I crash at your place tonight?", no more sitting on the deck steps and hearing about his girl, no, Ben's all grown up and leaving them.

Dean's eyes fill with tears again, and he's just so incredibly sad all of the sudden. He's been through this before after all, when Sam and Dad had their massive screaming match in the front yard the night before his brother left for Stanford.

As if he can read his mind, Sam leans forward and whispers in Dean's ear. "It won't be like that, you know? You can go see him any time you want, and he can fly home any time. Between you, me, and Cas, he won't be hurting for anything. He'll be fine, and so will you."

Sam's hand is heavy and reassuring on his back, and Dean sighs, the tears drying up again. Cas finds his hand, and intertwines their fingers, Lisa is still holding the other one, Sam's got a hand on his back, as does Jess, and it grounds him, brings him right back down to Earth, as the pride slides back into place.

_Look at him, _Dean thinks, as Ben's girlfriend, Clary, kisses him as he returns to his seat amongst his fellow students, _look how good he looks. He's gonna be fine. He really will._

* * *

The party is loud and raucous, lots of alcohol for the adults, tons of sodas for the teenagers.

Ben is wrapped around Clary on the huge chaise lounge, heads pressed together, hands joined, oblivious to the party going on around them. Clary's headed to Princeton in the fall. She and Ben will be on opposite coasts. They've both been very mature about it, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the summer, but Dean knows that Ben will ache when she leaves. They've been together most of their high school career.

He sighs heavily. Bobby appears next to him where he's leaning against the deck rail, and he pushes a beer into Dean's hand.

"Ya alright there, Dad?"

"Yeah. I'm ok."

"Ya sure?"

Dean sighed again. "No, I'm not sure. How is he still my kid and all grown up at the same time?"

Bobby smiled. "It happens, kiddo. One minute, they're snot-nosed kids, next thing you know, they're married with kids of their own." He looked pointedly at Dean.

"Yeah, ok, I hear you. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Look, I know you'd like to keep him here, but baby birds gotta fly the coop someday."

Dean nods, looking out at the yard again. His friends and family are all there, Charlie and Jo sitting very close to each other on a lawn chair, whispering conspiratorially. They've been seen together a lot since Gilda decided to move back home to Romania, effectively breaking up with Charlie.

Adam, Benny, Ash, Jess, Garth, Sam, and Vic are playing cards at the picnic table, Sam grinning like an idiot as he wins the current hand and is rewarded with a shower of chips and pretzels.

Ellen, Madison, and Lisa are sitting on the end of the chaise talking to Ben and Clary, and several of Ben's friends have started a volleyball game and are demanding that he join them.

Cas is sitting with Mari in his lap, reading her a story while the baby tries to chew the corner of the book. He looks up and smiles at Dean, an expression so filled with love it takes his breath away.

"See?" Bobby is saying, "everything will be fine. You'll be fine. You've got all of us, and you know that boy thinks the world of his old man. Really, got nothin' to worry about kiddo."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean says sincerely, and the older man gives him half a hug and walks over to the card players.

Surveying his family, Dean realizes that everyone is right. He's going to be ok.

Ben smiles widely at him from across the yard.

He'll be ok.

They all will.


	10. HurtComfort

_You guys have been so amazingly supportive and my comfort when I'm hurt. I dedicate this drabble to you guys and thank you for all your amazing reviews and support of this writer!_

* * *

_July 4, 2015_

Castiel woke to birdsong, sunlight, and an empty bed. The morning was unseasonably cool and a soft breeze danced in the white curtains. He stretched, sitting up, looking around and wondering where his husband had managed to wander off to at nine on a holiday morning.

Pulling himself out of bed, Castiel headed for the shower. He could hear the sound of a hose spraying through the open bathroom window. Peeking his head out, he caught sight of Dean in nothing but slightly wet blue jeans and a fairly liberal coating of soap suds.

He very much enjoyed watching the muscles in Dean's freckled back flex as he leaned down to dip a rag in the bucket of soapy water at his feet. Next, he crouched down beside the rear passenger side tire and scrubbed at the rally wheel.

Castiel could hear the faint sounds of Zep's _Black Dog_ drifting in the air, and Dean was quietly singing along.

This was actually pretty typical of Dean, to get up before the sun hit the driveway and wash and wax the Impala and the Corvette. Dean refused to do the job in the sunlight, citing that the water would dry on the car and leave spots, plus he insisted that you weren't ever, under pain of death and ruined clear coat, supposed to do a wax job anywhere but in full shade.

"Good morning gorgeous," Castiel called down through the open window. Dean stood and smiled up at him, green eyes twinkling.

"Hey. Sleep good?"

"Yeah, until I woke up alone," Castiel teased. "I see Baby won over sleeping in on a holiday morning."

"Haha, all those people are coming for the barbeque later and I can't have Baby dirty and dusty. Would be damn unpatriotic of me."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to start some laundry, and then I'll make us some breakfast, then it's cook-o-rama. I have many apple pies to make."

"Sounds great, babe. Love you," Dean smiled before crouching down to work on the wheel again. Castiel watched for a moment more and then grabbed the hamper in their bathroom. Making his way around the room, he gathered the rest of the laundry, including their sheets, which were a little…dirty, he thought with a smirk.

Hefting the heavy laundry basket, he made his way down the stairs. Stopping briefly in the kitchen, Castiel fired up the coffee pot and pulled some bacon from the freezer to thaw.

It smelled wonderful downstairs, all the windows open, and breezes playing in the curtains. It was going to be beautiful weather for their 4th of July party, then afterwards, they'd all drive to downtown Lawrence to watch the fireworks over the Kansas River.

Castiel couldn't wait. It was going to be a great day.

Hoisting the laundry once more, he pulls open the door to the basement. He's about four stairs from the bottom when he somehow misses the step, and his right ankle twists under him. Castiel lets go of the hamper, hands shooting out blindly for the rails, but it's no good, and he falls, painfully, down the last four steps, his ankle screaming in pain.

He smacks his head on a bookshelf at the foot of the stairs, and stars dance in his vision.

Oh, he hurts. He hurts very badly.

Reaching for his cellphone, Castiel's dismayed to realize he left it all the way upstairs, on his nightstand.

Dean won't hear him calling from down here. He tries to move towards the finished side of the basement, where the TV and house phone are. Castiel's head spins, and his stomach lurches. He can't move. He's simply hurting far too badly. He might make it to the door, but getting all the way across the floor to the phone is not going to happen.

"Dean? Dean?" he calls as loud as he can. He can still hear the water traveling through the pipes on the way out to the hose, so he knows Dean's still outside. Resigning himself to being stuck there for a while, Castiel pulls all the sheets closer, using them to prop his throbbing head.

He must doze for a bit, because next thing he knows, a white faced, terrified Dean is gently shaking him awake.

"Cas! Cas, wake up, baby, please!"

"Uh, don't shake me, my head…"

"There's an ambulance coming, I was afraid to move you and you wouldn't wake up, how far did you fall, I was so damn scared…"

"I hit my head. Fell about four steps, hurt my ankle."

"Ok, ok, the door is open, Jo's waiting for the ambulance, I'm gonna sit right here with you." Dean shifts around, leans against the wall next to the bookshelf, and carefully pulls Castiel into his arms, settling him against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. "God, you scared me Cas." Dean nuzzles his face into Castiel's neck.

"I'm sorry I scared you. I'm so glad you found me though, I thought I was going to lay here all day."

"Like I wouldn't have come looking for you." Dean kisses the side of his head. "Whew. Look at your ankle. Bet you sprained that pretty damn bad." The ankle in question is purple and swollen, throbbing intermittently with his pulse, and Castiel hopes to hell it isn't broken.

"Looks like no fireworks for me tonight."

"Well, if that's the case, we'll stay home and make some extremely careful fireworks of our own, ok?"

Castiel smiles. "I bet we will." He leans fully into Dean's arms, relaxing despite the pain. "I love you." They can hear the sirens in the distance, and Dean kisses him softly again.

"Love you too, baby."


	11. Making Out

_Thanks for the reviews! Love you guys! Less than a week 'til new SPNs! WHEEHEEHEHEHE!_

* * *

_July 4, 2015_

"You don't have to stay, you know?"

Dean looked up from his magazine in surprise. Cas was sitting up on the hospital bed in the ER, arms crossed over his chest, a grumpy scowl on his face.

"Where would I go?"

"Home. There's a lot to be done for the party, and I can just call you when I'm done."

"Nope. Stuck with me. No one wants to hang in an ER alone anyway." He flipped a page in the magazine, "'sides, Jo already hijacked all the food and took it to Ellen's."

Cas's scowl grows deeper, and Dean resists the urge to laugh at him. "It was our turn. Bobby and Ellen hosted last year."

"So?"

He huffs, and stares off into space, brows still furrowed. Dean frowns and sets the magazine aside. "Cas? What's wrong?" he gestures to his husband's ankle, propped on a pillow and covered with ice, "other than, y'know, the obvious."

"I wanted…I just wanted…" he sighs, all the fight draining out of him. Pulling himself from the chair, Dean settles lightly on the bed next to Cas, gently pulling him into his arms.

"What's wrong? This about more than just missing the barbecue."

"I just want this to be perfect. It's Ben's last 4th before he leaves for college, and I didn't want you to have to worry, or really do anything, I just wanted you to be able to enjoy the day, and now, I've managed to mess all of that up."

"Cas, it's not a big deal. It's not like you deliberately threw yourself down the stairs or something. You're damn lucky you don't have a concussion too, with that lump on your head. Look at this way, you'll get to park in a chaise all day, and we'll all wait on you. And, like you said yourself, at least it's not broken, right?"

To Dean's surprise, Cas bursts into tears. "I'm…I'm sorry, D-Dean. I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what? You didn't do anything wrong, Cas!"

"I ruined our party, messed up the whole day and I…"

Dean shuts him up with a long lingering kiss, the kind Cas loves the best, the ones where he takes his time, pressing their lips together, tongue darting out to gently lick at Cas's lower lip, slowly taking it deeper, cupping his chin in his hand, pressing his tongue against Cas's mouth until the other man lets him in, tasting the salt from his tears and the lingering taste of the coffee he'd brought him earlier.

When they pull apart, Cas's cheeks are flushed and he's breathless, but the tears have stopped.

"Better?"

Cas sniffles. "I um. I don't know what happened there. I'm sorry."

"Probably the pain meds. They gave you morphine, right? That shit makes me nutty." Dean thumbed a tear off Cas's cheek.

"Possibly. But I um…I need…"

"Anything, Cas."

He smirked slightly, blue eyes twinkling. "I think I need more of your um…_special _medicine, Dr. Sexy."

Dean laughed, loud and long. "Dr. Sexy, huh? Mmm, so uh, I guess you're waiting for your prescription then?" He groaned, rolling his eyes. "God, could we be any cornier?"

"Yes," Cas growled, surging back against Dean, wrapping his hand around the back of Dean's head, pulling him in roughly, yanking on the short strands, and damn, Cas being rough? Yeah, that went straight to his dick.

Their lips crashed together, Cas dominating the kiss, pushing his way into Dean's mouth forcefully, not that he would have fought back in the least. Tongues tangle, breaths are panted into each other's mouths, and Dean can't hold back the moan that slips out.

This time, when they pull apart, they're both wrecked, flushed, Dean's even started to sweat a bit.

"Ahem."

Dean's eyes widen, and Cas chuckles. The doctor is standing in the doorway, huge grin on her face.

"So, I can wrap your ankle and send you home now, or I can go away for five more minutes."

Feeling his cheeks flush, Dean hides his face in Cas's shirt with an embarrassed, and _embarrassing_, whimper.

Cas chuckles.

"No way, I'm more than ready to go."

* * *

The afternoon is very pleasant, and as Dean predicted, Castiel is waited on hand and foot, no pun intended. He spends most of the day in one of the big chaise lounges in Bobby and Ellen's backyard, watching the kids splash in the pool. And by kids, he means Sam, Adam, and Dean, the overgrown children, who each seem to be making it their mission to drown their brothers.

Dean comes up sputtering for the hundredth time, wet hair plastered to his forehead, and he turns to grin at Castiel, and Adam uses this to his advantage, shallow diving and yanking Dean's feet out from under him.

The look on Dean's face when he goes down is nothing short of hilarious, and Castiel is still laughing when he pulls himself out.

Later, they all pile into cars and drive back to Lawrence, choosing spots along the Kansas River to watch the fireworks. Dean lays a blanket and some pillows across the hood of his baby, and Sam and Dean help Castiel up onto the hood.

Dean climbs up on the other side, and snuggles in close. The night is cool for July, and the sky is big, black, and cloudless, stars twinkling merrily.

Ellen passes around plates of apple pie, Bobby hands out beers and sodas, and everyone settles in to watch the fireworks.

"I love you," Dean whispers softly in his ear, and Castiel turns his head for a kiss.

They're still kissing when the fireworks start, but neither one of them bothers to stop and look.

Castiel and Dean are far too busy making their own.


	12. Eating Ice Cream

_So my Wincestiel Big Bang is eating me alive. URgh. But I took a break tonight to make this! Love you guys, thanks for all the sweet reviews!_

* * *

_July 23, 2015_

"So guess what?"

Castiel smiled at Dean as he set his cell on the counter.

"What?" Dean asked, pulling a platter out of the dishwasher.

"Anna's pregnant!"

Dean's face lit up. "That's awesome! When's she due?"

"December," Castiel replied happily, pleased at the very idea of another niece or nephew, and loving the happy tinkle that had been in Anna's voice when she told him. She and Michael had had a terrible time getting pregnant with the girls, and this new little person had surprised both of them, but they were both very excited and happy. "Anna said Michael's very much hoping for a boy this time, but will be happy either way."

"That's great! I'm happy for them." Dean turned back to unloading the dishwasher, while Castiel moved around the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make ice cream. They had been invited to Bobby and Ellen's for dinner, and Castiel had promised to bring dessert.

"Hey Cas?"

"Hmm?" he replied, busy pulling stuff out for the ice cream.

"You ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"Having kids?" Dean's voice was quiet, almost shy, and Castiel froze in his tracks.

"Aren't we a little old for that?"

"Anna's older than you…"

"I don't think…I mean, I don't know, Dean. Can we talk about this later? I could use your help with the ice cream."

Dean's face fell slightly. "Ankle still hurting?"

"Not so much today." That was the truth. In the three weeks since he gracelessly tumbled down the stairs, Castiel's ankle had almost completely healed, and he was pretty much back to normal although he was still being careful with how much time he spent on his feet at the restaurant.

Dean was setting up the ice cream maker on the counter, the expression on his face a little sad. Castiel moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "I'm not saying I won't talk about it, I'm just saying not now. When we have the time to really talk about it, not when we're rushed and trying to get other stuff done, ok?"

"Ok." A faint smile graced his face. "So what kind of ice cream are we making?"

"One I invented just for you babe."

His husband's face lightened considerably. "Yeah?"

"Yes. A cinnamon custard base with caramel swirl, and chunks of pie crust and apple filling mixed in."

Dean's eyes widened. "Apple pie ice cream?"

"_Caramel _apple pie ice cream. Just for you."

"I love you."

"Ha! Let's wait 'til after you taste it. It might suck."

"Nah, it'll be perfect. Now get to it chef!"

Castiel chuckled, and pulled out a sauce pan from the cabinet. "I made the filling, crust and caramel earlier. We just have to make the cinnamon ice cream." He handed Dean a vanilla bean. "Wanna cut that up and get the seeds while I start making the base?"

"Sure." Fetching a knife and cutting board, Dean got to work on the vanilla bean. Castiel mixed eggs, heavy cream, half and half, and sugar in the pan. He added Dean's vanilla bean and a heavy dose of cinnamon. When everything came to a bubble, he took the pan off the heat. "We'll let that sit and cool, then toss it in the mixer. Wanna help me break up the pie crust?"

Dean nodded with a smile, and took the sheet tray of crust Castiel handed him. Five minutes later and Castiel was rather grateful he'd made too much – on purpose – because he was pretty sure Dean ate two pieces for every one he put in the bowl.

"You're eating all the profits, Dean," Castiel told him drily. Dean had the decency to look ashamed at least, mouth covered in pie crust crumbs.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Castiel leaned forward and kissed the crumbs off his mouth.

"Don't be. I know you. I made extra."

Green eyes twinkled merrily as Dean snatched another piece of crust. "It's so good. I love your cooking, babe."

"Ok, ok, but let's get the rest of it made. Go get the bowl out of the freezer."

Dean complied and a short time later, they were both watching the ice cream spin around in the ice cream maker.

"Looks so good. I need that like now."

"Gotta let it freeze."

"I'm impatient."

"No kidding." Castiel grinned at Dean. "Good thing I made a batch last night then isn't it?"

"Ooh!" Dean practically ran to the freezer, quickly finding the container.

"Slow down there, cowboy, I want some too!"

Digging around in the silverware drawer, Dean produced a single spoon. He wrenched the lid off the container and tossed it in the sink, then grabbed Castiel's hand and forcefully dragged him into the living room and pushed him down into the couch.

He straddled Castiel's lap with a grin, digging in the container with the spoon. There was a huge glob of ice cream on the spoon and Dean shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

"Mmmmmm! Ohmigod, it's pie and ice cream at the same time!" he exclaimed, voice slightly muffled by the ice cream. Dean happily sagged against Castiel, still digging in the container and a second later, Castiel's mouth was also full of cold, cinnamon-y goodness.

And Dean's tongue.

Dean was _licking_ the ice cream out of his mouth.

Castiel suppressed a chuckle, and opened his mouth wider, using his own tongue to push the dessert into Dean's mouth.

His husband gasped slightly, grinding down on Castiel's lap, already hard as a rock, and truth be told, Castiel wasn't too far behind him.

Food, truly good food, had never failed to turn Dean on, and combining his two favorite desserts? Castiel knew that wouldn't fail.

They shared another bite of ice cream, cold, sticky, and deliciously filthy, Dean groaning in ecstasy, grinding harder on Castiel's lap. Castiel carefully removed the container from Dean's hands, put it on the coffee table, then flipped his husband onto his back on the couch.

"So," he whispered into Dean's ear, "I'm guessing you like the ice cream?"


	13. In a Different Style of Clothing

_Hi babies! Thanks for the reviews. Might be last one for a bit (yeah I know, said that last time) but I SERIOUSLY NEED TO GET MY BIG BANG DONE!_

_Anyway, thanks for your lovely reviews. Glad you guys are enjoying this!_

* * *

_July 31, 2015_

It was, by far, the most amazing and fun wedding Castiel had ever attended.

His own notwithstanding, of course.

Kali and Gabe had gone all out with a Waldorf Wedding, and Kali had artfully mixed East and West into a fabulous amalgamation of glitz and glamour. Candles and crystals twinkled on every table and fragrant flowers filled the space with a delicate perfume. Silk draped walls and soft lighting in shades of rose and orange transformed the room. Everyone was laughing and dancing, having a wonderful time, dining on the fantastic fusion cuisine the bride and groom had invented themselves.

Kali's very large and boisterous family was in attendance, aunts, uncles and cousins flown in from Delhi, Mumbai, Burbank and Austin, and Anna, Michael, and the girls from Chicago. Castiel recognized many members of his and Gabe's adopted family, staff from the restaurant, and other folks like the Flays, the Symons, and several more of their culinary friends, everyone wearing beautiful Indian attire.

He'd been filled with pride, standing with his brother as best man, beaming as he handed the rings to Gabe, looking across the room to meet Dean's eyes and knowing that his husband was also happily remembering their own wedding.

Castiel was truly having a wonderful time.

It didn't hurt that the deep purple silk Sherwani Dean was wearing made him look like a million bucks.

His husband danced Anna across the floor, his sister gorgeous with her red locks tumbling over her shoulders and her gold and green Sari rippling out from her body like waves of silk water.

At the main table, Kali and Gabe were completely intertwined, staring into each other's eyes. Gabe looked very handsome in his pure white silk Sherwani, covered in gold embroidery and tiny sparkling crystals. As his best man, Castiel's costume was very similar, although not as detailed so as not to take away from the groom.

Kali, however, looked like the goddess for which she was named.

Her thick dark hair had been swept into a loose bun and gold jewelry had been wrapped into the soft curls. She was covered in gold, from the jewels dangling from her ears and neck, the bangles stacked on her wrists, and the delicate gold embroidery on her blood red Sari. Intricate patterns applied in traditional henna snaked up her arms and legs, matching patterns on her sister's body.

She was glowing, the center of attention and loving it, and no one was paying her closer attention than his brother.

Gabe had a look on his face somewhere between adoration and shell-shocked, and Castiel had never seen his silly, fun-loving brother look so happy and so perfectly contented.

Watching Dean laugh at something Anna said, Castiel knew exactly how he felt.

The party stretched into the wee hours of the morning, toast after toast lifted in the bride and groom's honor, cakes and desserts and alcohol fueling the merry-making.

It was just after two a.m. when Castiel noticed that the happy couple had disappeared and Dean was just about asleep with his head on Castiel's shoulder as they spun lazily around the dance floor to _At Last._

"Dean."

"Mmm?"

"Let's go up to our room. You're almost dead on your feet."

Dean nodded an affirmation and let Castiel pull him out of the room. He blinked sleepily at him in the elevator, green eyes mostly closed as he leaned up against Castiel.

"Was a nice wedding," Dean mumbled tiredly.

"Yes, and next month we'll be doing it again at Adam and Madison's."

"And another monkey-suit. Yay."

"Oh, come on. You look so nice in that outfit."

"You do too. Everyone looked so nice. Pretty clothes." Dean yawned and stretched, smiling at Castiel all the while. "You looked better than anyone."

"Hah! I thought that about you. Purple is a nice color on you."

Dean smiled again, leaning forward for a kiss. It started off chaste, but Castiel felt a surge of heat in his belly and pulled Dean in tight, deepening the kiss into something decidedly less chaste, cupping Dean's face in his hand.

He pulled away as the elevator stopped on their floor. Dean suddenly didn't look quite as tired as before.

Back in their beautiful room, Castiel slowly peeled Dean out of his wedding clothes, carelessly tossing them over the plush sofa. He then stripped his own away, and dragged Dean into their bedroom, lips locked together. He gently pushed Dean down on the bed and covered him with his body.

"Weddings make you horny, Cas?" Dean asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I was remembering ours, and our wedding night." He leaned over and sucked Dean's nipple into his mouth.

"Gah-that was- that was a great night," Dean gasped.

"Mmhmm. It was. Just you and me," another kiss, "and that big bed in the hotel. It's a wonder we made our plane the next morning." Castiel ducked his head, laying soft kisses along Dean's neck, his hand slipping down to cup Dean's dick. "I think we should re-create some of that tonight."

Dean nodded enthusiastically, and opened his mouth to reply but instead of words, a huge yawn came out. His cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "more tired than I thought."

Castiel smiled, and reached for the lube. "You just lay there, I'll take care of everything." He leaned into another kiss, then moved off of Dean. "Roll over on your side. We'll do this the cuddly way."

A smile was tossed back at him as Dean rolled over. Castiel pressed kisses along Dean's neck and spine as his hands drifted lower. He dribbled some lube onto his fingers, then gently circled Dean's entrance with his index finger.

He prepped Dean slowly, enjoying the sweet little gasps and moans tumbling from his husband's mouth.

"Fuck, Cas, I'm ready. C'mon."

Castiel kissed him just behind his ear and pulled Dean's leg up over his own, sliding his own thigh between Dean's. He lined up and pushed in very slowly, Dean pushing his hips back into Castiel's.

"Cas-ss-s," Dean whined.

"It's ok, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you." Castiel pulls back, pushes back in, and does it again, a sweet and gentle rhythm. Dean is warm in his arms, pliant and relaxed. He's making sweet little whimpers and breathy little gasps, and he moans softly when Castiel wraps his hand around him and slowly jacks him, keeping time with his deliberate and lazy thrusts.

Dean comes first, with a happy little groan. Castiel isn't far behind him, and when he comes, he pulls Dean as tight to his chest as he can, leaving more little kisses on his neck, ear and shoulder.

"I love you," he whispers.

"Love you too," Dean mumbles, already being pulled down into sleep. He lays with him until Dean is completely asleep, then pulls out and fetches a damp washcloth from the bathroom to clean him up.

After, he crawls into bed beside him, and Dean immediately rolls back over, face instinctively traveling to Castiel's shoulder, arm dropping over his waist, legs tangling together.

"I love you," Castiel whispers again, as he presses his lips to Dean's forehead.

A moment later he follows his husband into sleep.


End file.
